


homelands

by kurgaya



Series: from ocean to ocean [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drabble, Gen, Light Angst, Minor Chirrut Îmwe/Baze Malbus, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 02:54:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13157739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurgaya/pseuds/kurgaya
Summary: Baze seeks some peace and quiet on Lothal. Ezra sticks his foot in it.[Baze survives Scarif AU]





	homelands

**Author's Note:**

> cross-posted from tumblr.

On a ship like the Ghost, planetside watch duty is the only time Baze finds any peace and quiet. Lothal is not the tranquil planet it had once been, not after the Empire blazed through its cities and burned its grasslands into ash, but there is a calm out in the wilderness so different from the emptiness of space. Baze has always preferred the earth and the sand beneath his feet than the shuddering, metallic floors of a ship. The meadows of Lothal, though scorched they may be, are already beginning to flourish once again. He was never one for spaceflight, no matter how far his bounties would take him. Shuttles break and fall into disrepair, fall into space, and the vastness of its dark and empty nothing.

But the Ghost will soar as long those need her. There is little Baze can offer her crew, but he knows his way around machines. NiJedha was a city built from stone and metal, its temples towering high and its deserts reaching wide. Little grew there. Baze learnt how to work what dry and desolated soil it had, but as the Empire loomed and blocked out the sun, he turned his knowledge to the inanimate instead.

(He cannot fix himself, but he can fix the Ghost).

Hera was adamant that they aren’t to linger on Lothal. Baze cannot say how long she and Zeb have been gone, but Ezra’s complaining quietened into the occasional clank and thunk of the Ghost some time ago. He will have to pass Baze, sat on the edge of the loading ramp, if he wishes to leave the ship through conventional means, although _conventional_ has rarely been Ezra’s approach in the face of a challenge.

Baze probably won’t stop the boy should he try to leave. Lothal is his home, so Baze will not keep him from it. Getting Ezra back without a legion of stormtroopers on his tail would be a problem though. Baze has only being boarding with the Ghost crew for a few months now, so he’s yet to discern if they chase trouble across the galaxy, or if it’s trouble that chases them.

Chirrut would like them.

Something meows, distracting Baze from dwelling on his husband. He leans over the edge of the ramp to spy a Loth-cat sat in the meadow, its two tiny, pea-like eyes blinking up. Its face is a round, squashed sort of shape, as though the air through its fur is pinching its cheeks, and its mouth stretches from whisker to whisker, lopsided with glee. Tail sweeping fat and furry across the grass, the Loth-cat meows again. Its call is a gentle chime, a high-pitched ring of a Temple bell.

Baze’s answering grunt is as coarse as the Jedhan drylands that the Temple oversaw. As a child, he was wary of the animals in the streets. They were the scavengers he aspired to and the danger he shied from. This Loth-cat certainly isn’t anything to be feared, but Baze’s experience with animals is scarce. Ravens once flocked in the high Temple ceilings, but that was a lifetime ago.

The Loth-cat tilts its bulbous head, ears twitching. Its eyes are beady and completely void of colour: there is something unsettling about its gaze, empty yet intelligent, perceiving a world that Baze cannot, or perhaps perceiving nothing at all. There isn’t a shine to its eyes, no light, no spark of life, and still it watches him with a slow and curious blink.

Baze doesn’t want to shoot the damn thing, but he heaves his rifle into his lap just in case.

“What?” he asks it, motioning _shoo_ with the gun. “I’ve nothing for you.”

As expected, the Loth-cat doesn’t flee. Instead, it springs up onto the ramp and pads closer, claws click-clacking against the metal. Baze tries to nudge it away with the rifle, but it simply clambers around it like one of the enormous, grey rats that feasted in Jedha’s lower town, and then plonks itself at Baze’s thigh.

A smile splits open the Loth-cat’s face.

“Don’t you dare,” Baze warns it, and still it climbs up into his lap. Baze sits dumb-struck as it circles around and settles, kneading its paws into his trousers. It can’t quite seem to work out what to do with its tail, and Baze watches it swish side-to-side with irritated little flicks before taking pity. Throwing a sigh up at the sky, he lays the rifle aside and rearranges himself more comfortably; the Loth-cat meows as he scoops it up, but Baze just shushes it as he crosses his legs and sets the stupid animal back into his lap. His knees complain all the while - he’s getting old, far older than he ever thought he would - but the Loth-cat starts to purr.

“Doesn’t mean I like you,” Baze grumbles.

“I think he likes you though,” Ezra says, leaning up against the exit hatch. There’s a smudge of oil on his cheek that suggests he’s been working down in the hold. The Ghost is always in need of repair, no matter how easy their previous mission. Ezra has probably come seeking Baze’s opinion on a fix, but judging by the Loth-cat’s soft snores, he won’t be getting that any time soon.

Baze huffs, glaring through his shaggy hair. Ezra just laughs and flops down beside him, swinging his legs over the ramp. It’s too easy to forget how young Ezra is with the bounty on his head; even Jyn was older, only just. But Ezra has the chance for a long and peaceful future, and Jyn had almost nothing before the Empire tore it all away.

“Are they sentient?” Baze asks, pushing away those thoughts.

“Loth-cats? Nah,” Ezra says, tickling the feline’s back. It rolls further into Baze’s lap, purring happily. “Pretty smart though. Helped us take out ‘troopers plenty of times.”

“Says more about ‘troopers.”

Ezra laughs. “Wait ‘till you meet a Loth-wolf. Kanan doesn’t like them much, so you probably will. What _is it_ with you and Kanan anyway? I thought you guys would get along. He’s got trust issues, you’ve got trust issues. He’s an old cynic, you’re an old cynic...”

“He’s not much older than thirty.”

“That’s _old_. And you’re deflecting.”

Baze sighs, dropping a frown to the Loth-cat. Oblivious and snug, it continues to snore with a low, almost purr-like sound, and Baze scratches behind its ears to buy himself some time. Explaining his strained relationship with Kanan is the last thing he wants right now, but Ezra is by far the most headstrong member of the Ghost crew. Baze will have more luck teaching the Loth-cat new tricks than persuading Ezra to back down.

Kanan has done nothing wrong; nothing to warrant Baze’s aversion. By offering up a room in the Ghost, Kanan has provided far more than just a place to sleep. The Ghost is cramped and cold, and it clunks all night long as it shudders through hyperspace, but its tight halls and temperamental doors are the first hints of stability that Baze has experienced in months. Sabine’s art may be an eyesore and Chopper’s whirring an unintelligible mess, and Hera may be just as terrible at cooking as Zeb is at patience, but Baze is fond of this motley family. They have accepted his anger and scars without question, where nobody else in the universe will. All Baze had left was a broken uneti staff, and he can’t bear to touch it most of the time.

He scratches under the Loth-cat’s chin. Its fur is soft and fine where Baze’s hands are blistered and rough with scars. The Loth-cat doesn’t seem to mind, but Baze has the hands of a killer, hands that destroy and bleed and burn. “I look at Kanan and I -” The words catch in Baze’s throat like the smoke of Scarif pouring up into the sky. The Loth-cat purrs, encouraging him on. “- I see the man that my - my friend might have become.”

Ezra’s eyes are wide and so very painfully blue. “Are they alike?”

Baze thinks of Chirrut’s cocky smile and the way Kanan laughs from deep without his chest. He thinks of blindness, and faith, and the pull of the Guardians versus the push of the Jedi. He thinks of who Chirrut became and who Kanan must have been, and they wouldn’t be so different, Baze thinks, in a kinder world.

“No,” he says, with a shake of his head. “I don’t think so, anymore.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


End file.
